The benefits of diplomatic immunity (1/?) Wrex/Garrus
anonymous
July 6 2014, 19:25:01 UTC
Sequel to 'The benefits of inclement weather' and 'The benefits of C-Sec issued handcuffs' The continued adventures of a very sexually liberated Garrus, and a put upon Wrex who has trouble admitting just how appealing he finds the whole situation. (now with 100% more ryncol)
Shepard's entire funeral had been pointless.
Assorted human delegates, officials and councilors had talked about nothing for hours, while the rest of Shepard's crew managed to look dignified and tragic. Well, everyone except Tali.....the little quarian had started crying when the humans stuck an empty box in hole they had excavated in the artificial turf of the presidium. She sobbed until her faceplate was fogged and she had devolved into hiccuping helplessly on Liara's shoulder.
Vakarian had been there, standing honor guard with a handful of other C-sec officers. Wrex hadn't talked to the whelp in months, not since the idiot had admitted that he planned to go bellying back to C-sec liked a kicked pup.
It wasn't that Wrex cared. As far as the krogan was concerned Vakarian could go gravity jumping without a wingsuit, and Wrex wouldn't twitch a finger to stop him. That didn't explain why Wrex had bothered to headbutt the turian when he admitted to his C-Sec plans.....but the battlemaster didn't think he should be held accountable for random violence in the face of complete stupidity.
So Garrus had gone back to work for a bunch of paper-pushing beurocrats, and Wrex had gone back to Tuchanka to fuck enough willing females as it took to get the stink of turian from his hide. But there were nights when Wrex, sore and sated from his latest conquest, had tried hard to not remember. Not remember the weird metallic sheen of Garrus plates under the spray of the Normandy's showers as Wrex ground against him. Frotting almost to the point of pain, with Vakarian's long legs wrapped around his waist, and Wrex with a hand clamped over the turian's mouth to keep him quiet.
Or that underground pirate's den on some backwater planet. Shepard had gone back above ground to call the Normandy for a pickup, and Wrex had taken the opportunity to bend Vakarian over a blood spattered crate and fuck him with the still warm barrel of his rifle.
Only a handful of stolen moments, but each was enough to make Wrex fumble for a female in the dark. Press himself into willing flesh and force himself to deny any thought of wishing the hands on his back were slim and claw-tipped.
So Wrex spent almost the entirety of Shepard's funeral glaring at Vakarian across the crowd. The turian stayed frozen in an at-rest position and did his level best to ignore the krogan's gaze. After the service, the gathering had dispersed. The C-Sec guard had returned to work, and the rest of the crew had retired to a bar that was far too quiet, upscale, and refined for Wrex's tastes. Instead he had left and spent several hours downing ryncol shots in Chora's den.
In the end it was only the council's grudgingly administered diplomatic immunity clause that prevented Wrex from spending a few days in C-Sec custody. A couple of punks couldn't seem to keep their mouths shut, so Wrex took the opportunity to help them learn some respect. The battlemaster left them bruised and bloodied, while a surly human officer escorted Wrex back to his council-sponsored hotel room-and respectfully requested the krogan not leave it again.
The suite was ridiculous. The entirety of clan urdnot could have fit in there with room left over for a varren pit. In fact kalros herself could have probably fit in there if she curled up a bit.
Wrex had wandered around the space long enough to realize three things: he was bored, he was hungry, and he was disturbingly horny. That in itself wasn't terribly surprising, he had drunk a lot, then fought......wanting to fuck was a natural krogan progression. He was just perusing the lackluster adult options on the vid screen when someone started knocking insistently at his door.
Re: The benefits of diplomatic immunity (1/?) Wrex/Garrus
anonymous
July 7 2014, 02:52:14 UTC
Above anon reporting late. Or I guess I should upgrade to Stalker anon?
Oh, fuck yes. Pun intended.
Dis gonna get good.
*Grabs popcorn*
(By the way, while I am... sad we didn't get to see all those stolen moments, they seem a natural progression from where the last fill left off xD So anon is extremely pleased, and you keep being an awesome author!anon).
The benefits of diplomatic immunity (2/?) Wrex/Garrus
anonymous
July 7 2014, 03:57:30 UTC
Grumpily opening the door, Wrex snorted in amusement. Vakarian looked like he'd been through the krogan rebellions backwards, and lost. The turian's normally impeccable C-Sec uniform was in complete disarray, with the snaps on his shirt undone so it hung open across one bony shoulder. For some reason he was only wearing one glove and no shoes.
“Vakarian?” Wrex rumbled, noticing the bottle Garrus had dangling from one hand....in fact the kid reeked of alcohol.
“Wrex!” Garrus had that slow deliberate way of speaking and moving that was the universal trademark of the very drunk.
For some reason he couldn't explain, Wrex moved aside and let the ragged turian weave his way into the room.
“Niiiiccce,” Garrus spun on the spot to take in the richly appointed suite, barely managing to avoid sprawling over a small table. Somehow Vakarian staggered across the room without tripping over his own spurs and plastered himself to one of the plexiglass windows, looking at the vertiginous view of the lower wards with hazy eyes.
Wrex watched Garrus gulp another mouthful of whatever he was drinking. The bottle wasn't designed with turian mouths in mind, and a good portion of the liquid wound up all over the whelp's shirt.
“How many you had?” Wrex watched in amusement as the turian tried to peer into the shadows of the bottle in search of any remaining alcohol.
“uunnh,” Garrus peered at his own hands and yawned before eventually holding up three fingers and announcing: 'Six!”
Every twisted fantasy Wrex had ever had about his teammate reared their heads and clamored for attention. The turian was loaded, Wrex could do anything he wanted he wanted and Vakarian couldn't do anything to stop him......probably wouldn't even remember it in the morning either. Instead he grabbed a handful of Garrus' shirt and hauled the turian bodily across the room, tumbling him roughly onto the oversized bed.
“Sleep it off, pup.” Gruffly, Wrex shoved Garrus back, making sure the turian planned on staying put. Vakarian looked drunkly baffled as to why he was being left in the bed by himself, but Wrex ignored him, as well as the protests from his own body.
“C-Sec,” the turian was fighting a losing battle with his lopsided shirt. “I ...quit C-Sec.”
Wrex watched until the turian relaxed into a loose limbed sleep, then, loathing himself for the implied sentiment, he dragged Garrus' shirt the rest of the way off and dropped a blanket over the slack form.
Settling onto a couch, Wrex resigned himself to a night of bad vidscreen entertainment, and his seemingly permanent companion: sexual frustration. The best vidscreen offering was some inane action vid called (ironically) 'C-Sec. It had been billed to the krogan population as a comedy, but about half way through Wrex realized it was supposed to be taken seriously....and promptly fell asleep.
When the battlemaster next awoke, it was due to something warm and naked slithering into his lap.
Sorry! I would have included links, except none of them have been added to the archive yet....so I cant figure out how to make them link. (I can link to the first post, but not the whole story)
until they get archived (or someone can tell me how to make a link work otherwise =P) Benefits of inclement weather can be found on page 3, while Benefits of C-Sec issued handcuffs can be found on page 5.
The benefits of diplomatic immunity (3/?) Wrex/Garrus
anonymous
July 7 2014, 20:11:36 UTC
“What?” Wrex managed to mumble, finding himself face to face with a still dripping turian.
Water was still coursing down Garrus' skin, and Wrex could see the trail of wet clawmarks across the carpet towards the shower. Towels were apparently a foreign concept, but at least Vakarian didn't smell like a barroom floor any more. Unbidden, his hand curved around the wet jut of hipbone, pulling the warmth of that strange body closer. The ridiculous formal clothes Liara had insisted he wear were soaking up water, and Wrex's body was starting to wake up with expected enthusiasm.
“So, old man,” Garrus dipped his head to lick a searing trail down the side of Wrex's throat. “Are you quite finished doing the honorable thing?”
“Honor had nothing to do with it,” Wrex dug his thumbs into the sensitive arc of Vakarian's waist hard enough to make the turian squirm. “I just tend to like having people awake when I fuck them.”
Garrus laughed silently, his breath an overhot bloom against the krogan's skin. “Promises, promises.”
“You still have a problem with keeping that mouth shut don't you?” The buttons and zippers of Wrex's clothing proved too frustrating to manipulate, and the krogan just tore roughly at them, setting Garrus aside long enough to kick his pants fee. Settling back, Wrex pulled the turian back into his lap so that Vakarians knees rested on either side of the battlemasters broad thighs. It was a position only made possible by the weird jointing of the turian's hips, Wrex suspected that a human male probably would have shuddered at the concept.
Wrex's cock rubbed against the soft hide of Garrus' stomach, painting an iridescent snake trail of precum where it touched. The battlemaster could feel Vakarian's pubic plates loosening, slicking the bottom of the krogan's cock with sexual fluid. Initially Wrex had found the fact that turian males generated their own lubrication to be disturbing, but now he found he rather liked the sensation.
Garrus arched into a long, slow grind, even as he caught Wrex's hand and brought the thick fingers up to his mouth, wetting and slicking them with that oh-so-clever tongue. About to suggest that if the turian wanted to put things in his mouth, he could definitely suggest more interesting parts of his anatomy; Wrex was silenced as Garrus rose up on his knees to pull the krogan's hand between his legs, bypassing the loosening pubic plates to press his thick padded fingers into the tight heat behind them.
Wrex's cock twitched violently as he pushed his fingers deeper into the turian, he was almost unbearably hot, unbelievably tight. Other than the memorable gun incident, this was uncharted territory.....it wasn't that Wrex hadn't thought of bending Vakarian over pretty much any available surface, it was the knowledge that if he did anything that would damage the turian for the mission, Shepard would have had his head on a stick. Wrex knew it was anatomically possible, he'd gone so far as to steal Tali's extranet link to do that particular piece of research....but he figured it'd be easier for everyone concerned if Garrus could walk on Ilos.
Pushing his fingers as deep as he could, Wrex curled them, enjoying the way Vakarian hissed and shivered, body flexing around him like a vise. If the whelp didn't stop moving like that Wrex was not going to be held responsible for the consequences.
Pulling Garrus' head down with a rough hand, Wrex made sure there was understanding in those pale, avian eyes. “Say no, pup.”
A low, shivering croon welled in Vakarian's throat as he pushed back onto Wrex's hand. There was absolutely no doubt in his eyes as he scraped his talons across the hide of his own stomach hard enough to leave a tracery of welts, and gave Wrex a clear and concise nod.
Re: The benefits of diplomatic immunity (3/?) Wrex/Garrus
anonymous
July 7 2014, 21:00:16 UTC
You are one mean a!a... Stupid story with stupid cliffhangers... What have you done to me? What's this ship called? Garrex? Wrekarian? I go into my corner now, mumbling to myself. God I love this. Please more?
The continued adventures of a very sexually liberated Garrus, and a put upon Wrex who has trouble admitting just how appealing he finds the whole situation. (now with 100% more ryncol)
Shepard's entire funeral had been pointless.
Assorted human delegates, officials and councilors had talked about nothing for hours, while the rest of Shepard's crew managed to look dignified and tragic. Well, everyone except Tali.....the little quarian had started crying when the humans stuck an empty box in hole they had excavated in the artificial turf of the presidium. She sobbed until her faceplate was fogged and she had devolved into hiccuping helplessly on Liara's shoulder.
Vakarian had been there, standing honor guard with a handful of other C-sec officers. Wrex hadn't talked to the whelp in months, not since the idiot had admitted that he planned to go bellying back to C-sec liked a kicked pup.
It wasn't that Wrex cared. As far as the krogan was concerned Vakarian could go gravity jumping without a wingsuit, and Wrex wouldn't twitch a finger to stop him. That didn't explain why Wrex had bothered to headbutt the turian when he admitted to his C-Sec plans.....but the battlemaster didn't think he should be held accountable for random violence in the face of complete stupidity.
So Garrus had gone back to work for a bunch of paper-pushing beurocrats, and Wrex had gone back to Tuchanka to fuck enough willing females as it took to get the stink of turian from his hide. But there were nights when Wrex, sore and sated from his latest conquest, had tried hard to not remember. Not remember the weird metallic sheen of Garrus plates under the spray of the Normandy's showers as Wrex ground against him. Frotting almost to the point of pain, with Vakarian's long legs wrapped around his waist, and Wrex with a hand clamped over the turian's mouth to keep him quiet.
Or that underground pirate's den on some backwater planet. Shepard had gone back above ground to call the Normandy for a pickup, and Wrex had taken the opportunity to bend Vakarian over a blood spattered crate and fuck him with the still warm barrel of his rifle.
Only a handful of stolen moments, but each was enough to make Wrex fumble for a female in the dark. Press himself into willing flesh and force himself to deny any thought of wishing the hands on his back were slim and claw-tipped.
So Wrex spent almost the entirety of Shepard's funeral glaring at Vakarian across the crowd. The turian stayed frozen in an at-rest position and did his level best to ignore the krogan's gaze. After the service, the gathering had dispersed. The C-Sec guard had returned to work, and the rest of the crew had retired to a bar that was far too quiet, upscale, and refined for Wrex's tastes. Instead he had left and spent several hours downing ryncol shots in Chora's den.
In the end it was only the council's grudgingly administered diplomatic immunity clause that prevented Wrex from spending a few days in C-Sec custody. A couple of punks couldn't seem to keep their mouths shut, so Wrex took the opportunity to help them learn some respect. The battlemaster left them bruised and bloodied, while a surly human officer escorted Wrex back to his council-sponsored hotel room-and respectfully requested the krogan not leave it again.
The suite was ridiculous. The entirety of clan urdnot could have fit in there with room left over for a varren pit. In fact kalros herself could have probably fit in there if she curled up a bit.
Wrex had wandered around the space long enough to realize three things: he was bored, he was hungry, and he was disturbingly horny. That in itself wasn't terribly surprising, he had drunk a lot, then fought......wanting to fuck was a natural krogan progression. He was just perusing the lackluster adult options on the vid screen when someone started knocking insistently at his door.
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may this series never end, amen.
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Oh, fuck yes. Pun intended.
Dis gonna get good.
*Grabs popcorn*
(By the way, while I am... sad we didn't get to see all those stolen moments, they seem a natural progression from where the last fill left off xD So anon is extremely pleased, and you keep being an awesome author!anon).
Reply
“Vakarian?” Wrex rumbled, noticing the bottle Garrus had dangling from one hand....in fact the kid reeked of alcohol.
“Wrex!” Garrus had that slow deliberate way of speaking and moving that was the universal trademark of the very drunk.
For some reason he couldn't explain, Wrex moved aside and let the ragged turian weave his way into the room.
“Niiiiccce,” Garrus spun on the spot to take in the richly appointed suite, barely managing to avoid sprawling over a small table. Somehow Vakarian staggered across the room without tripping over his own spurs and plastered himself to one of the plexiglass windows, looking at the vertiginous view of the lower wards with hazy eyes.
Wrex watched Garrus gulp another mouthful of whatever he was drinking. The bottle wasn't designed with turian mouths in mind, and a good portion of the liquid wound up all over the whelp's shirt.
“How many you had?” Wrex watched in amusement as the turian tried to peer into the shadows of the bottle in search of any remaining alcohol.
“uunnh,” Garrus peered at his own hands and yawned before eventually holding up three fingers and announcing: 'Six!”
Every twisted fantasy Wrex had ever had about his teammate reared their heads and clamored for attention. The turian was loaded, Wrex could do anything he wanted he wanted and Vakarian couldn't do anything to stop him......probably wouldn't even remember it in the morning either. Instead he grabbed a handful of Garrus' shirt and hauled the turian bodily across the room, tumbling him roughly onto the oversized bed.
“Sleep it off, pup.” Gruffly, Wrex shoved Garrus back, making sure the turian planned on staying put. Vakarian looked drunkly baffled as to why he was being left in the bed by himself, but Wrex ignored him, as well as the protests from his own body.
“Hey....Wrex?” Vakarian yawned again, clearly struggling to stay awake. “I quit.”
“Quit what?”
“C-Sec,” the turian was fighting a losing battle with his lopsided shirt. “I ...quit C-Sec.”
Wrex watched until the turian relaxed into a loose limbed sleep, then, loathing himself for the implied sentiment, he dragged Garrus' shirt the rest of the way off and dropped a blanket over the slack form.
Settling onto a couch, Wrex resigned himself to a night of bad vidscreen entertainment, and his seemingly permanent companion: sexual frustration. The best vidscreen offering was some inane action vid called (ironically) 'C-Sec. It had been billed to the krogan population as a comedy, but about half way through Wrex realized it was supposed to be taken seriously....and promptly fell asleep.
When the battlemaster next awoke, it was due to something warm and naked slithering into his lap.
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Oh, Author!Anon. You spoil me so.
This was rather sweet, WAFF so much. All hail the fluff! We needed after Shepard... expired...
And poor, poor sexually frustrated Wrex. Perhaps he's wayyyy over his head.
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until they get archived (or someone can tell me how to make a link work otherwise =P) Benefits of inclement weather can be found on page 3, while Benefits of C-Sec issued handcuffs can be found on page 5.
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This links will lead to absolutely all posts in both stories :D
The Benefits of inclement weather: http://masseffectkink.livejournal.com/8276.html?thread=39986004#t39986004
The Benefits of C-Sec issued hand-cuffs: http://masseffectkink.livejournal.com/8276.html?thread=40042324#t40042324
I think that, when you have only the link to first post, you need to click on "Thread" under it to have the entire thread the stories belong to.
I do it the other way round xD I save the last comment and then "Parent" my way up.
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Water was still coursing down Garrus' skin, and Wrex could see the trail of wet clawmarks across the carpet towards the shower. Towels were apparently a foreign concept, but at least Vakarian didn't smell like a barroom floor any more. Unbidden, his hand curved around the wet jut of hipbone, pulling the warmth of that strange body closer. The ridiculous formal clothes Liara had insisted he wear were soaking up water, and Wrex's body was starting to wake up with expected enthusiasm.
“So, old man,” Garrus dipped his head to lick a searing trail down the side of Wrex's throat. “Are you quite finished doing the honorable thing?”
“Honor had nothing to do with it,” Wrex dug his thumbs into the sensitive arc of Vakarian's waist hard enough to make the turian squirm. “I just tend to like having people awake when I fuck them.”
Garrus laughed silently, his breath an overhot bloom against the krogan's skin. “Promises, promises.”
“You still have a problem with keeping that mouth shut don't you?” The buttons and zippers of Wrex's clothing proved too frustrating to manipulate, and the krogan just tore roughly at them, setting Garrus aside long enough to kick his pants fee. Settling back, Wrex pulled the turian back into his lap so that Vakarians knees rested on either side of the battlemasters broad thighs. It was a position only made possible by the weird jointing of the turian's hips, Wrex suspected that a human male probably would have shuddered at the concept.
Wrex's cock rubbed against the soft hide of Garrus' stomach, painting an iridescent snake trail of precum where it touched. The battlemaster could feel Vakarian's pubic plates loosening, slicking the bottom of the krogan's cock with sexual fluid. Initially Wrex had found the fact that turian males generated their own lubrication to be disturbing, but now he found he rather liked the sensation.
Garrus arched into a long, slow grind, even as he caught Wrex's hand and brought the thick fingers up to his mouth, wetting and slicking them with that oh-so-clever tongue. About to suggest that if the turian wanted to put things in his mouth, he could definitely suggest more interesting parts of his anatomy; Wrex was silenced as Garrus rose up on his knees to pull the krogan's hand between his legs, bypassing the loosening pubic plates to press his thick padded fingers into the tight heat behind them.
Wrex's cock twitched violently as he pushed his fingers deeper into the turian, he was almost unbearably hot, unbelievably tight. Other than the memorable gun incident, this was uncharted territory.....it wasn't that Wrex hadn't thought of bending Vakarian over pretty much any available surface, it was the knowledge that if he did anything that would damage the turian for the mission, Shepard would have had his head on a stick. Wrex knew it was anatomically possible, he'd gone so far as to steal Tali's extranet link to do that particular piece of research....but he figured it'd be easier for everyone concerned if Garrus could walk on Ilos.
Pushing his fingers as deep as he could, Wrex curled them, enjoying the way Vakarian hissed and shivered, body flexing around him like a vise. If the whelp didn't stop moving like that Wrex was not going to be held responsible for the consequences.
Pulling Garrus' head down with a rough hand, Wrex made sure there was understanding in those pale, avian eyes. “Say no, pup.”
A low, shivering croon welled in Vakarian's throat as he pushed back onto Wrex's hand. There was absolutely no doubt in his eyes as he scraped his talons across the hide of his own stomach hard enough to leave a tracery of welts, and gave Wrex a clear and concise nod.
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What have you done to me? What's this ship called? Garrex? Wrekarian?
I go into my corner now, mumbling to myself.
God I love this. Please more?
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(Finally Above anon leaves a non-creepy post).
This ust keeps getting hotter, and awesomer (is that a word?).
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you are a gift, author!anon.
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